


Flattery Will Get You

by Depressed_Lemon_Bite



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Romance, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Smut, They are 17, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, a lot of sexual stuff tbh, big ass misunderstandings, tutor!Ichigo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 16:33:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15755574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Depressed_Lemon_Bite/pseuds/Depressed_Lemon_Bite
Summary: The itch to be useful was painful and never went away until it was thoroughly scratched. He hadn’t found a way to be helpful to any of his friend since he had nothing of value to offer them, but now things had changed ever so slightly.Keigo pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and sucked gingerly as his brown eyes rolled over to a familiar form. It had been a mere year since Ichigo had lost his powers, and while everyone else carried on like normal, Keigo was the only one who noticed that Ichigo couldn’t. Sure, Chad and Orihime avoided the topic of Hollows and Soul Reapers, choosing to pretend they never existed, and Uryū didn’t openly speak of that world unless Ichigo directly asked, all of them doing their best to avoid the rough subject. Keigo was the only one to see that the knowledge of his friends battling without him was tearing him apart. Ichigo faked his happiness. Something he had done for years, long before he became a Soul Reaper, and perfected over time. That scowl on his face always mislead others. Strangers thought of him as a punk and his friends thought he was his normal self, but Keigo didn’t believe any of that. He knew a mask when he saw one.





	Flattery Will Get You

Flattery will get you nowhere.

An old age idiom that had been chewed up and spat out in countless variations, remixes, and reforms. It was practically a rule to live by more than it was a mantra. The saying was more sound and concrete than any scientific fact. At least in Keigo’s experience it was. No matter what he said, no matter how sweet or seductive, honest or fibbing his words had been, his flattery was always dismissed. It wasn’t like he was _bad_ at it. Mizuiro had told him himself that the only A+ he would ever get in life was in ass kisser-y. It was pathetic and not at all something someone should take pride in, but it’s all Keigo had. He wasn’t strong and he wasn’t a ladies man—or anyone’s man for that matter. He wasn’t too bright and he was a living joke in the eyes of everyone he met, including his friends. No special talents or hidden powers or anything to offer to the world. A dull, bland, and unbearably normal and insignificant human being. It sucked to say in the least.

The only unnatural and thrilling aspect of his life came from his friends. Mizuiro was rich and could get all the girls he wanted and Tatsuki was kick ass and unfairly good at _kicking_ his ass, and even though he wasn’t speaking specifically about them they were still more than he would ever be. The friends he was speaking of were four fabulously gifted individuals who exceeded humanity altogether. Even before he had found out the truth about Soul Reapers and Hollows and that whole mess of dangerous drama, Keigo had always seen them as something to aspire to. Orihime had always been so kind and caring to everyone she met and was so easily loved that Keigo couldn’t help but envy her popularity, although a good-hearted and brilliant girl like her deserved the attention; unlike him. Uryū Ishida he hadn’t known for long and could barely call him a friend. He was more of an acquaintance. Complications aside, Ishida was smartest in their class, making the kind of grades Keigo never could, and was incredibly gifted in sewing. He wasn’t interested in having that second ability, but nonetheless Ishida was definitely someone to look up to. Chad had always been amazing in his eyes. Outlandishly strong but still so tender hearted despite what others may put him through—a man all other should be modeled after. Then there was Ichigo. Strong, courageous, selfless, intelligent, helpful and understanding...Ichigo had it all. Long before Ichigo gained the powers of a Soul Reaper and long before he ever aspired to save the world...he has always been the same. Ichigo never changed. He matured. He grew taller and became older and his face changed ever so slightly, but his core values never transformed. He was everything Keigo would never be. Most would feel inferior. Truthfully, Keigo did, but he didn’t have any hard feelings about it. All of them were born to be something great, to do good. Especially Ichigo. Keigo knew he wasn’t meant to be anything and he had grown to accept it.

Or so he thought.

The itch to be useful was painful and never went away until it was thoroughly scratched. In a way it reminded him of the poison ivy he suffered through back when his family took him camping. That shit stung and he felt completely helpless when his mother duct taped mittens to his hands; unable to scratch and relieve the pain. He hadn’t found a way to be helpful to any of his friend since he had nothing of value to offer them, but now things had changed ever so slightly.

Keigo pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and sucked gingerly as his brown eyes rolled over to a familiar form. It had been a mere year since Ichigo had lost his powers, and while everyone else carried on like normal, Keigo was the only one who noticed that Ichigo couldn’t. Sure, Chad and Orihime avoided the topic of Hollows and Soul Reapers, choosing to pretend they never existed, and Uryū didn’t openly speak of that world unless Ichigo directly asked, all of them doing their best to avoid the rough subject. Keigo was the only one to see that the knowledge of his friends battling without him was tearing him apart. Ichigo faked his happiness. Something he had done for years, long before he became a Soul Reaper, and perfected over time. That scowl on his face always mislead others. Strangers thought of him as a punk and his friends thought he was his normal self, but Keigo didn’t believe any of that. He knew a mask when he saw one.

“Mr. Asano! Are you listening to me!”

A ruler cracked on the chalkboard, the shocking sound of his name and the faint imitation of a bone snapping in the teacher’s fist pushing Keigo head first out of his thoughts. _Shit_. He hadn’t been paying attention. This was the class he couldn’t under any excuses fail and here he was, focusing on Ichigo’s problems instead of his own. Fuck. This was the teacher that failed people for the dumbest crap, too. He _really_ didn’t want to repeat this semester. He’s had more than enough of his fill on the high school experience.

Time to lay on the charm. Extra thick.

A crooked, heavily sincere smile tilted Keigo’s lips as he nervously played with the pencil in his grasp. “I’m sorry about that, Mr. Adachi. I got a little confused about something you said and I was trying to figure it out, but I guess that distracted me from the lesson.”

_Please, let him believe it._

“If you were anyone else I would’ve believed you, kid,” Adachi said as he crossed his arms over his chest with a stern scowl, “Next time don’t stare at Kurosaki like a love sick schoolgirl and actually think about your studies.”

_Fuckin’ shit._

Keigo sank deep into his chair as his class burst into a loud, joyful symphony of laughter. Teasing names and jokes at his expense were thrown into the air as his face turned beat red. He **_hated_** high school. That thing in the movies where a guy is turned from a zero to a hero or a girl goes from geek to sheek? That was bullshit. After the summer he had grown a few inches, cut his hair, and tried to exercise more to burn off energy and escape his annoying sister; and in doing so he apparently became an overnight hunk. That popularity didn’t last. They liked the new face but hated the old personality. Teenagers were ruthless.

“With all due respect, Adachi, what’s the point of picking on your students?”

All teenagers but one. The room fell silent as all eyes turned to Ichigo, Keigo’s knight in a boring school uniform. With one leg crossed over the other Ichigo leaned back in his seat and closed his textbook with a look of boredom on his face.

“Aren’t you supposed to be encouraging us and helping us learn? All you do is nag and degrade students for stuff that doesn’t even matter. Keigo got distracted; big whoop. Everyone gets distracted. Especially with a dud of a teacher like you,” Ichigo said.

His words only caused the silence to thicken. Everyone agreed with what he said—it was hard to deny the truth, after all—but no one dared to voice their opinions and for good reason. Their teacher seemed to be seconds away from exploding. Purpling with anger, the sweat under his arms increasing, and the ruler creaking in his tight fist: he was livid. The man wasn’t used to people speaking against him. Everyone was always so scared of upsetting the hulking man that they never dared to call him out on his bull. That only continued to prove that there wasn’t anyone else in the world like Kurosaki.

The red burning Keigo’s cheeks dimmed to an embarrassing pink as he found himself smiling at Ichigo’s words and realized that it was impossible to stop himself. Once again Ichigo was protecting him. The same way it had always been since they first met and probably how it will always be.

For fuck’s sake, it wasn’t hard to imagine why he was so deeply in love with the rebellious blonde.

“You can’t speak to your teacher like that, Kurosaki,” Adashi growled.

“Why not? It’s the same level of respect you give your students. What goes around comes around. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. You reap what you sow. Karma’s a bitch. There’s hundreds of idioms for it,” Ichigo said as he stood up and tossed his bag over his shoulder, clutching a thick volume of Shakespeare to his side as if it were religious text, “Of course it’s not like we would know that since you’re so busy bullying students that you don’t give a fuck about teaching us.”

Keigo had to hide his beaming smile behind his hand, struggling to hold back his bubbling laughter at the look of disbelief on the teacher’s face. Calm, collected, brave and cool—Ichigo was guaranteed to be the heartthrob of Kurakara High. Bad attitude or not there was no denying his tenacious appeal. Everyone fell for his unintentional charms. Keigo was no exception.

Before Adachi could begin to stammer a reply a harsh bell sliced through the tense moment and students scrambled to gather their things, wanting to leave before the teacher had enough time to process his anger and release it on an unwilling victim. Speaking of which, Keigo really didn’t want to be that person. Stuffing his books into his bag and haphazardly closing it he tossed the bag over his shoulder and made a beeline for the door. Ichigo had been the first to vanished the moment the bell rang, but now students were fighting to escape.

“Asano, get back here now!”

 _ **Fuck**_.

Pushing harder (and destroying any chance he had with any of the girls in his class) he managed to squeeze through the door just in time to miss a large, meaty hand reaching for his shoulder. Now it was time for him to do what he did best. _Run_.

“Asano! Do you want detention!”

Oh yeah, like he _wouldn’t_ get detention if Adachi got his hands on him. That was laughable. So damn funny that it made Keigo run faster, panting and working up a sweat as he flew through the hallways and dodged innocent bystanders. The problem is that he couldn’t run forever. Despite his new look he wasn’t exactly an athletic guy. He could run, but not for long. He liked to think of himself as a human cheetah, but in reality he wasn’t that grand. Maybe he was more like one of those sickly cheetah kittens.

“Asano, I will call your parents!”

Oh hell. Adachi was _close_.

Before he had time to panic, or fall _further_ into panic, a hand shot out of the men’s restroom and snatched him by the collar of his shirt. The toned arm connected to the powerful hand quickly yanked him into the bathroom and into a warm embrace, his back burning from the touch of a sizzling chest. Another hand covered his mouth to mute all possible sounds as he was dragged into a cramped stall and tossed against the wall when the door was locked in place.

Piercing, cinnamon brown eyes struck Keigo and did what they always did to him: turned his body into jello. All tension in his body was washed away by those fierce eyes, his limbs relaxing and his back sliding down the wall ever so slightly while trusting Ichigo’s strong hand on his shoulder to keep him from falling. Fuck. Ichigo was always so intense. Having Ichigo stare at him was like...it felt like the guy was stripping him naked just by looking at him. Hot and sensual and made him weak at the knees. Nervous. _Really_ nervous. And shy. Like, “I swear I’m a grower, not a shower,” kind of panicked shyness. This is not how he wanted to feel around his friend. Those butterflies in his stomach armed with knives and ray-guns gutting him just from seeing that beautiful, _gorgeous_ face of Ichigo Kurosaki. Fuck. This is why you should never fall in love with your best friend. Not that they were best friends. At least, he wasn’t Ichigo’s best friend. Chad kind of had that position taken. Rukia, too, even though she was kind of AWOL. Uryū and Tatsuki definitely came before him. Orihime probably did as well. Ugh. He really needed to stop thinking about this. He was depressing himself.

“Keigo? Did you hit your head or something?”

That sultry voice Keigo could, quite frankly, jack off too at a moments notice no matter what words were said, pulled him from his spiraling thoughts and he blushed self consciously. “Uh, no. I’m fine. Just spaced a bit,” he replied. He was an embarrassment to all of humankind.

An embarrassment he may be, but he was blessed by the gods despite that fact. Ichigo’s smile was gorgeous. A rare emerald almost no one got to see. It was small and misshapen from lack of use but still priceless. And it was close. His face, that smile, it was all so close. His heart couldn’t take it.

“You need to be more careful in class, man. You know that teacher has it out for you,” Ichigo said as he pulled his hand back.

Keigo had to bite his tongue to stop himself from whimpering a pathetic plea to keep the blonde close. Could he get anymore desperate? At this rate he might as well get on his knees and beg for the pleasure of sucking Ichigo’s dick. Honestly he wasn’t below that; especially if it worked.

“You know how I get. I don’t, um, I’m not really good at concentrating in class. Nothing in there really interests me,” Keigo replied.

“You mean besides my face?” Ichigo chortled, that wonderful smile of his twisting into a cocky smirk.

How long had it been since Keigo had seen that look on his face?

Blushing lightly, Keigo’s eyes dropped to the floor, his shoulders growing stiff as he pushed his hands deep into his pockets. See, this wouldn’t be so embarrassing if he could shrug off the incident and call it a cruel joke. It was cruel, but it definitely wasn’t a joke. For starters, Keigo wasn’t openly out. Technically he had no idea what he was and normally chose to sum it up as queer, but only to himself. As far as the world knew, Keigo Asano was straight; a ladies man. It wasn’t entirely wrong. He liked girls. He’s had thousands of crushes on girls like most high school boys did. He just wasn’t limited to only girls. His mega crush on Ichigo made that apparent. The next speed bump in his high school career were the jokes made at his expense. No one really knew about his sexuality except for Mizuiro. Not even Ichigo knew the truth. Unfortunately the way he found himself staring at Ichigo had this immediate effect on people where they feel this incredible need to be homophobic and make jokes at his expense, as if a man loving another man was a ridiculous concept. It really wasn’t. In fact is was far more serious than those sexually insecure jerks could ever be. Their jokes hit close to home because, yeah, he did have a thing for one of his oldest friends. Mizuiro was the only one who knew the truth...technically. For the final hurdle, this is where things get...dicey. Someone besides Mizuiro knew the truth and it was the worst person of all: Ichigo Kurosaki himself. Except, this is where it got complicated. What happened was a few months back during the summer there was a party thrown at a senior’s parent’s house. The parents were out of town so nearly the entire school came out to party. Keigo only showed up because Mizuiro was able to score him in as a plus one. Ichigo showed up because he had actually been invited. He was cool enough to be that lucky; delinquent reputation or not. The thing is, parties aren’t Ichigo’s favorite way to pass time. The guy was kind of a nerd. He studied all the time and read Shakespeare in a repeated loop and even annotated the dead white dude’s work like he would be quizzed on it. Keigo was there for status and an unsuccessful attempt at becoming one of the cool kids, but why Ichigo was there...Keigo still didn’t know. The problem started with alcohol. Everyone there was a few years under the legal age of drinking. All except the host’s shady ass brother who hit twenty about three years ago but still acted as if he were in middle school. No one should have drank, but like kids who wanted to prove they were too cool for school, they drank as if their lives depended on it. He had been a little nervous to drink illegally but of course under a bit of persuasion from Mizuiro he was able to give himself a good buzz halfway into the party. Ichigo, on the other hand, showed that he had no problem drinking like a fish. Two hours into the party and Keigo hadn’t seen the guy once and then **_bam_** , walks right in on Ichigo stumbling like a drunk in the bathroom trying to unzip his pants with uncoordinated fingers before he pissed himself. Naturally Keigo tried to leave but was soon stopped by Ichigo’s clammy, grabby hands and a very pathetic whine emitting from the blonde’s throat about not being able to get his pants open. So...well, skipping a truly embarrassing middle to an even more embarrassing end, Keigo ended up kissing Ichigo on his fucking _perfect_ lips and confessed right then and there. It was mortifying. Although, it only got worse when Ichigo suddenly passed out seconds afterwards, as if his kiss had really been that disgusting. Then to top that, Ichigo woke up the next day at his house and...said nothing. It was like he forgot the entire night happened. The guy was definitely hammered enough to forget everything. Ever since then Keigo has spent every second waiting in fear for the day when Ichigo remembers what happened, slaps the dumbass out of him, and _then_ kills him. It would be totally deserved, but it’d hurt like hell.

“I know you well enough to understand that your spacing out incidents aren’t gonna stop, which will definitely jeopardize your grades. I really don’t want to see you still here in your thirties trying to get a high school diploma,” Ichigo offered another smirk, but this one was softer than the last, almost comforting, “I know you’ll hate it, but what if I tutor you?”

Keigo blinked. “Tutor me?” he repeated dumbly.

Ichigo’s smirk grew and a gentle chortle warmed Keigo’s cheeks. “I know you’ve never been tutored before, but I assumed you knew what it was.”

A wave of shy shame washed over Keigo as he dropped his eyes to the dirty bathroom floor, his blush darkening. “Of course I know what it is. My parents have been trying to push it on me since grade school.”

He hadn’t meant for his words to sound so bitter, but they had. Ichigo’s smirk immediately dimmed at the confession and Keigo felt like bashing his head against the toilet. The guy almost never smiles and the moment he does Keigo just _has_ to fuck it up. Ugh. He was a useless and sucky friend. Ichigo was just trying to help. Keigo’s brown eyes widened in realization before lifting to stare at the blonde, watching as Ichigo crossed his arms over his chest, closing himself off as he stared at the stall walls. Keigo swallowed. _Ichigo was trying to help._ He thrived on being helpful to others. It was practically his whole reason for existing. He went from protecting kids from bullies to literally saving the world and he was _happy_. He was doing exactly what he thought he should: risking his life for others. Then, almost as soon as he had it, that power he worked so hard to obtain was been taken from him. All this time Ichigo had been feeling depressed because of that powerlessness, but now he had a chance to be useful, at least, in a small way. In turn...Keigo would be useful, too. For the first time in his life he could actually _help_ Ichigo and not just distract him by acting like a moron. Everyone else felt like they owed Ichigo too much to ask for his help, turning down his offers before he could get a single word out. They never understood how much that crushed him. Keigo could be different. The brunette felt his heart swell and race at the thought. He could help Ichigo feel useful again.

“Keigo...I didn’t mean to come across like that. I don’t have to tutor you if you don’t want me to. I only wanted to offer because…,” a weak, fake smile slithered across pink lips, brown eyes still avoiding his, “I don’t even know why. I’m not even the most qualified. Uryū would probably be a better choice.”

“I want you to tutor me.”

Ichigo’s eyes lit up like fire, bursting with a wild mix of positive emotions as he stared at Keigo in shock, which, in turn, caused Keigo’s blush to sink to a dark crimson. He hadn’t expected himself to be that blunt either. Not that he was a subtle kind of guy or anything, but asking his crush to tutor him was the closest he was ever going to get to asking Ichigo out. Wow. He was so pathetic.

“You really want me to tutor you?” Ichigo asked.

There’s a lot of things Keigo wanted Ichigo to do to him and tutoring had never been one of them, but now it apparently was.

“I doubt anyone else could bear to do it,” Keigo said with quiet grin, “And Ishida seems like he’d beat me to death every time I make a mistake.”

Fuck. How long had it been since he heard Ichigo laugh? Real, honest laughter? He never laughed before he became a Soul Reaper, but after his powers disappeared the guy was practically a walking cemetery. Dark brown eyes lidded as Keigo ogled at the blonde’s happy, smiling face, his heart throbbing from such beauty. Ichigo was gorgeous, especially when he was happy. Keigo wished he could always look like this. If he could, Keigo would make sure that Ichigo never frowned ever again. Someone this good, this wonderful, should never feel the way Ichigo does. He was practically an angel.

“Alright. How about you come over to my place after school for a few hours so we can go over whatever you missed or didn’t understand in class? It doesn’t have to be everyday but the more you study the better off you’ll be. Currently I’m not involved in any sports so I’ll be available whenever you need me. That sound good to you, Keigo?” Ichigo asked, practically glowing as his plan developed.

He had to be dreaming. Hanging out with Ichigo on a daily basis? Outside of school? Just the two of them? And Ichigo was even offering to be available to him 24/7. This…fucking hell, if mathematics weren’t involved Keigo could easily see this as some half baked attempt at a date. Wishful thinking, of course. Ichigo was and always will be out of his league.

Keigo smiled back at his friend, swallowing his wild array of lovestruck emotions as he answered. “Sounds perfect.”

That smile was going to kill him some day.

“We start tomorrow,” Ichigo smirked as he popped the lock on the stall door and pushed it open, “Be sure to pay attention in class tomorrow. I don’t wanna have to reteach you everything.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll do my best,” Keigo said with a nervous chuckle.

How the hell was he supposed to learn when his tutor, the love of his life Ichigo Kurosaki, was the biggest distraction known to mankind?

New kinks were definitely gonna come out of this.

**Author's Note:**

> No idea how often I'll update. Just wanted to post something and felt like this shouldn't collect dust in my WIPs.


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